Ebb and Flow
by Kitsune Alchemist
Summary: They give to each other what Seimei once took away. That's all they can do. Soubi/Ritsuka


Disclaimer: I don't own. I'm just trying to make amends for the horrible angst that so many, including myself, press upon these poor characters.

-=-=-

Seimei hated cigarettes. Or, perhaps he didn't, because he never even gave a scornful sideways glance to those smoking on the street. Maybe, Soubi reflected, he just wanted to deprive Soubi of any pleasure that he might derive from his everyday life.

Whatever it was, Seimei would demand his cigarette be put out any time he was near enough to catch him smoking. Eventually, these orders evolved into "you are not to smoke those, Soubi," as the younger male pointed at the pack of the table, an expensive brand, bought for him by a boy who had torn at Soubi's defenses until his tattoo had shattered them.

Soubi threw them away, keeping silent as his throat burned with the need for nicotine. His hands clenched every time he saw anyone with a cigarette, but Seimei's face was a schooled mask of perfection for those who did not know him. Especially his little brother.

It wasn't until Soubi was to go to his master's little brother that he once more picked up a cigarette, testing to see. There was no trace of demand, no sudden and undeniable urge to drop the cigarette. He wasn't sure if it was a loophole or if the order no longer mattered now that Seimei had ordered him to forget what he had said and only to protect Ritsuka, to love him.

He smoked in front of an elementary school to soothe the burn in the back of his throat that had been ignited by a sadist's orders. After all, Seimei was no longer here to make happy.

-=-=-

Ritsuka was scornful at the idea of needles, and detested the thought of having anything foreign placed under your flesh just so that one could look "cool". After all, what if he regretted it some day?

He had talked to Seimei once about it, asked if a tattoo would hurt. Seimei had covered his wound with a careful bandage and whispered, "maybe not…"

"But mother would be angry, and she would hurt me," Ritsuka finished the statement for his elder brother and Seimei gave a soft murmur of agreement. Dabbing at the wound with a cotton swab, Seimei didn't say anything for a long while.

It wasn't until he finished and Ritsuka's pain was a dull memory and the odd tingle of fresh cuts that the elder smiled at the younger. "She won't hurt you. Always run to me."

As he walked out, Ritsuka noted the cut on Seimei's arm. From mother? Seimei had gotten hurt trying to protect him. It was a first. Mother would never hurt her beloved Seimei.

Ritsuka still vowed never to get a tattoo, just incase Seimei got hurt trying to save him. He would make sure nobody got hurt because of him. He would make his brother proud. He would make Seimei happy.

-=-=-

"Soubi, why do you like those things?" Ritsuka asked, opening a window in Soubi's apartment to le the smoke out. The cancer stick filled the room with a bitter scent, but it was perfect for Soubi, a defiance of Seimei, and the only he could manage.

"Like them?" Soubi pondered this thought for a moment until the ash fell to the floor and Ritsuka squeaked and leapt back from the glowing cinders.

Whining Soubi's name, he sat at his side, pouting. "I wish you wouldn't smoke. It's disgusting."

Soubi's smile was a bit forced. Why would Ritsuka do to him what Seimei had? "Is that an order, master?"

"No," Ritsuka grumbled, "I just wish you wouldn't. I always think those guys on the street are going to die of lung cancer. I don't want you to."

Soubi stopped, genuinely surprised by his Sacrifice. He set the cigarettes down on the table and nodded. "Yes, Master."

Ritsuka tried to look annoyed, but the corner of his mouth was twitching upwards. "You mean it?"

"Of course, Ritsuka." Soubi said, petting Ritsuka's ears softly. Ritsuka complained loudly, but he didn't move away from the painter's slim hand, and Soubi didn't look at the cigarettes once for almost a month, not until Ritsuka reminded him that he hadn't been smoking. Soubi thought about it and for a second the burn returned, but he ignored it. He would make Ritsuka happy.

-=-=-

Ritsuka trembled, terrified of the needle that would press into his skin. Any moment now.

It pricked and Ritsuka blinked once, surprised at how it felt. It hurt, sure, but it wasn't much and nothing near what he had expected. Ritsuka sighed in relief when it was over, none-the-less.

A few days later, when he removed the bandage, it was Kio who commented on it first, surprised and shocked and finding a way to blame it on Soubi. The blond had known nothing of it and reached out to brush his fingers across the flesh of Ritsuka's inner arm where he had a startlingly visible string of butterflies floating lazily around Soubi's name.

Soubi had suddenly never liked butterflies more in his life. "Ritsuka… why?"

"You said… you liked to hear the stories behind them. What people were thinking when they got them. I was…" a crimson blush spread over Ritsuka's cheeks as he mumbled, "I was thinking of you."

After all, Ritsuka pondered, it didn't matter what mother did. Only he would be hurt. Seimei was no longer here to make happy.

-=-=-

Okay, so it wasn't as cutesy as I'd like, but I'm in a very anti-Seimei mood. I hope you like it anyways.


End file.
